is what I heard the black post-woman say
to her cell as she dropped my mail
into the white metal box by the door –
‘…so everything Felicia said is true…’
was all I caught before she turned
and went on listening down the street
sorting through the next delivery
hurrying on and humming at her phone:
so there it is if you can believe it
‘…everything Felicia said is true…’
I don’t even know who Felicia is
but I want to meet her I want
to congratulate her for speaking
the truth and then I want her
to tell me exactly what it is
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